


the road to a happy marriage leads through vegas

by adolescentcanine



Category: Inazuma Eleven, Inazuma Eleven GO
Genre: Accidental Marriage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 13:35:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14450361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adolescentcanine/pseuds/adolescentcanine
Summary: “Are you kidding me?” Masaki glared at his fathers, arms crossed and slumped into his seat. “That’s the dumbest marriage story of all time.”“Masaki!” Hiroto gasped, placing a hand over his heart. “You wound me!”“No, seriously,” Masaki pressed, “That’s stupid. You got married by a fat clown? You’re the clowns! You weren’t even in love!”--Ryuuji treats Hiroto to a trip to Vegas, if only to pretend they aren't single losers for a week. It works out splendidly.





	the road to a happy marriage leads through vegas

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted this to be longer, but I haven't written anything Inazuma Eleven related in 3+ years. This could be a lot better than it is and I hope to revisit it when I'm more used to writing again, but I hope you enjoy it either way!
> 
> Thanks to my pals on twitter for reminding me how much I love writing for these soccer boys :')

Soon after Hiroto graduated high school, when he was still Kiyama, he got married. Or, rather, _attempted_ to get married. It was a nice, proper Japanese wedding, and everyone from Raimon was invited. 

The bride-to-be was named Hayabusa Okichi, a slip of a girl from Okinawa. As far as Hiroto knew, she had no personality or desires of her own, following only the will of her parents. When he had voiced this concern to Ryuuji, his friend had only snorted and said, “Well, isn’t that what you’re doing, too?” 

The day before the wedding, Hiroto went to meet Okichi for coffee. He wasn’t sure if it was bad luck or not to see her beforehand, but it didn’t really matter in the long run. 

“Hayabusa,” he said, because despite the fact that they were engaged, neither addressed the other with their given name, “I don’t think we should get married.”  


“What?” Okichi said, her knuckles going white around her coffee mug.

“I mean…” He tried to think of a tactful way to put this. “I’m only marrying you because my dad told me to.” And then, “I don’t think I could ever really love you.”  


Okichi slapped him, and left him to pay the bill. A year later, he saw on Facebook that she was getting married to a rich man from England. He liked the status. 

“I think I’m going to die alone.” Hiroto mused to Ryuuji. They were both drunk, a half eaten pot of shabu-shabu between them.  


“Don’t be melodramatic. We’re hardly twenty one.” Ryuuji said, patting him on the arm. “Look, how about this. If neither of us are married by the time we’re forty, _I’ll_ marry you.” 

He was joking, of course. “Drunken marriage proposals are hardly legitimate,” Hiroto said, joking as well.

* * *

Hiroto’s next serious girlfriend was American. She was an artist, and had traveled to Japan to take fashion photos in Harajuku.

“This one’s… interesting.” Endou said. Hiroto had brought her as his plus-one to Endou and Natsumi’s wedding, despite the fact that Adele- that was her name- didn’t speak Japanese very well at all. 

“She’s a fashion major.” Hiroto informed him. Adele was wearing a large red kimono coat and black combat boots, and was currently having a very jilted conversation with Kazemaru about hair products near the bar. 

“Does she play soccer?” Endou asked. 

“No, I don’t think so. Sorry.”  


“Oh.” Endou looked disappointed, and then Natsumi dragged him off to the dance floor. 

Adele moved in with him soon after and dyed her hair electric green, staining his sink. “You know, we could get married, too,” she said, rubbing at her hair with one of his white towels. “I really liked their reception.” 

“Well, if Natsumi’s good at anything, it’s planning.” Hiroto mumbled, and then looked up when she didn’t respond. Adele raised an eyebrow. “Wait, you’re serious?” 

“Why not?” she said, and by the next week, Hiroto was addressing envelopes and sending out invitations. 

“I think you’re rushing into this.” Ryuuji said over Skype. He was finishing an internship in Hong Kong, and had the bags under his eyes to prove it.

“It’ll be fine,” Hiroto promised. “You’ll be there, right?”

“Of course I’ll be there.”  


It was a good thing, too, because like Hiroto’s previous almost-marriage, this one fell through, too.

“Her _cousin_?” Hiroto felt like he was about to faint. “She left me at the altar to run off with her _cousin_?”  


“Americans.” Kazemaru mumbled, and then went to the bar. Most of the other guests followed- it was a destination wedding in New York City, and no one was very happy about the travel expenses. 

“It was her second or third cousin, I think. Not that that makes it any better!” Ryuuji amended at Hiroto’s affronted glare. “But, I mean. They _were_ spending an awful lot of time together before the wedding.”

They had been staying with Adele’s parents, before the wedding. Now that everything had fallen through, Ryuuji took Hiroto down to Brooklyn to get him situated in a hotel. The receptionist barely looked at them before saying, “Groom running away with the best man?”  


“Actually, the bride ran away with her cousin.” Hiroto mumbled, and Ryuuji, overcome with curiousity, leaned forward.

“How often does that happen? With the groom and best man?”  


“More often than you’d think.” The receptionist shrugged and handed them a key card. “One room with two beds, just to the left. Have a great night.”

* * *

Hiroto spent the next week and a half moping around the hotel room, and once everyone else had already gone back to Japan, Ryuuji was finally fed up.

“You’re being pathetic,” he said.

“Yes, well.” Hiroto mumbled, barely legible around the pillow pressed to his face. “My fiancé did leave me for her cousin.”  


“Third cousin.” Ryuuji corrected, and ignored Hiroto’s groan in response. “Seriously. You need to cheer up. Choose a place to go, anywhere, and we’ll go.”  


“Vegas,” Hiroto said sarcastically. “Now leave me alone.”  


And Ryuuji did leave him alone, for exactly the amount of time it took to buy 2 plane tickets to Las Vegas, Nevada, and pack. 

“You’re the absolute worst.” Hiroto informed him as they waited to board the plane. Ryuuji looked at him over his sunglasses, fanning himself idly with a hotel pamphlet.

“Most people don’t have this reaction when they’re being treated to a vacation,” he said, “but to each their own.” And, under his breath, “Ungrateful.”  


Ryuuji knew Hiroto like the back of his hand. Hiroto, as much as he put on a strong front, easily fell into pits of despair. Ryuuji, bright eyed and a constant try-hard, would go through as much shit as he needed to to make his friend smile again. So it was kind of nice, as much as Hiroto hated to admit it, to be forced to go to the one famous city in America that he had never wanted to go.

“Why aren’t you married, anyway?” Hiroto asked Ryuuji when they had gotten their rental car. Las Vegas was hotter than sin, and he could already feel his skin burning. “You’re a good catch. You don’t have some sort of physical deformity you’ve kept hidden from me?”  


“Yes, I completely forgot to tell you. Ever since Aliea, I’ve been growing strange lumps all over my body.” Ryuuji said flatly.  “No, Hirito, you’ve seen all my deformities. I don’t know what I want in a woman, or if I want one at all.”  


“Everyone wants a woman, Ryuuji.” Hiroto pointed out. “We’re at an age for prime marriage material.” 

“Not everyone wants a woman.” Ryuuji’s nails were painted green, tapping at the steering wheel. “Everyone just thinks they do.”

They checked into a circus themed hotel and went directly to the bar to order hard drinks. Hiroto was still exhausted from the plane ride, and Ryuuji was still exhausted from dealing with Hiroto all week, and as such, both got drunk fairly quickly. 

“If we ever got married,” Hiroto asked, face warm, “who would you invite?”  


“We aren’t anywhere near forty.” Ryuuji mumbled. He finished off his glass before responding. “Burn, for sure. He seems to think that I’m a lost cause.”  


“What? Why?”  


“Because I haven’t dated anyone. Maybe I’m waiting for the right person.”  


Hiroto snorted. “Burn is just upset that Gazel got a girlfriend before him.” He motioned to the bartender and ordered another round. “I would invite Adele, so she could see how grand and fantastic our ceremony will be, and know she would never have anything near that.”  


“How spiteful of you.” Ryuuji’s mouth twitched up at the corner. “Where would we have it?”  


Hiroto thought for a moment. “I’m done with destination weddings. We could just have it in your apartment.”  


Ryuuji laughed. “ _My_ apartment? My apartment barely has room for my futon.” 

“Fine. My apartment, then.”  


“And who would marry us?” 

“Well…” Hiroto stopped. “Wait. We’d have to get married here. Since it would be a gay wedding.”  


“In Vegas specifically, or can we go back to New York?”  


“No, no, listen- we can have one of those trashy weddings we see on television. The… the ones where you get married by someone in a costume.”  


“Like Elvis?” Ryuuji’s eyebrows were getting dangerously close to his hairline.

“Yes! Exactly. Like Elvis.” Hiroto nodded. 

Ryuuji frowned, twisting some of his hair around his fingers. Hiroto watched, drunkenly mesmerized. “I suppose I’m not surprised you want something different. You only get married once- well, not _you,_ but-“  


“That’s hardly fair. I never managed to actually get married.”

“The point is, it should be something special. Something…” He paused to search for the word. “One of a kind. Everyone gets married by Elvis.”  


“So, what? You think we should get married by the real Elvis?”  


Ryuuji just smiled.

* * *

Exactly three hours and twenty seven minutes later, they stumbled out of a small chapel. They had demanded a fat clown marry them, then climbed back into a taxi. Ryuuji passed out before they’d made it to the hotel, and Hiroto had a time drunkenly trying to carry him like a sack of potatoes. He ended up leaving his wallet in the back of the cab, to which the driver helped himself to the fee and a very generous tip. 

They spent their honeymoon lying in a dark room, trying not to throw up on each other.

* * *

 

When they were finally lucid enough to comprehend their present situation, Ryuuji promptly flipped out and immediately began to tear through the room for the necessary papers to get an annulment. 

When he was about to dial the number, Hiroto said, “Ryuuji, wait a second.”

“What?” Ryuuji snapped. 

“Well,” Hiroto said, “I was thinking that maybe we could just… stay married.”

“…What?” he repeated. 

“Stay married. I mean,” he started talking faster, now, “We’re both still young, but we’re going to be running a company together soon anyway, and we aren’t forty yet but I seriously feel like it half the time. Honestly, the way my joints still ache and when I start running I get out of breath so easily and-“

“I would get better health benefits, wouldn’t I?” Ryuuji asked. He had openly coveted the health benefits Hiroto got with the company ever since they were nineteen. 

“Um. Yeah.”  


Ryuuji mulled it over. “Yeah, all right then.”

“Okay,” Hiroto said. 

Later that night, after realizing that neither of them had even kissed at the alter (“ _Probably_ not, Hiroto, honestly I don’t even remember what I was _wearing._ ”), they tried to have sex. It was awkward, because just a week ago they had been happy heterosexual men with a happy heterosexual friendship pursuing disastrous heterosexual relationships. A cleaning maid walked in halfway through, and Ryuuji immediately rolled over and gave up. 

“I don’t think we’re very heterosexual anymore,” Hiroto said, and Ryuuji just sighed and leaned his head on his shoulder.

* * *

When they were about to head back to Japan, Hiroto accepted a Skype call from Burn. 

“How’s Vegas?” he asked. 

“We’re actually heading to the airport soon, so I can’t talk long. I actually needed to tell you something.”  


“You’re quitting so I can inherit the company?” Burn asked, sounding hopeful in a teasing way. Hiroto rolled his eyes. 

“No. I got married.” 

Burn laughed. “Yeah, right.”  


Hiroto stared. “It’s true!”

“Sure,” Burn said in a tone that made it clear that he was only humoring his friend, “to who?”  
“Ryuuji.”

“You’re hilarious.” Burn said, and hung up. 

Hiroto shut the laptop and looked over at Ryuuji, who was lounging on the bed and watching a documentary on space. He was the sort of person who lounged very well, and Hiroto was beginning to appreciate that. 

“He didn’t believed me,” he informed him, like Ryuuji couldn’t hear the entire conversation.

“We should get rings, then.” Ryuuji said, reaching for the remote. “The largest diamond rings we can find.”  


“Sounds like a sound investment.” Hiroto said, moving to lie down next to him. “We can just show up on Christmas with a kid in tow.” 

“What? Adopt a child?” Ryuuji laughed. “Do I really seem like the father type?”  


“Well, maybe not now. Sometime in the future.” Hiroto decided. Ryuuji rolled his eyes, humoring him. 

“Yes, yes. For sure.” he said, obviously joking. He turned back to the television, changing the channel. On the screen, a cartoon cat was screaming at a fish.

Hiroto sighed. “I can’t believe I got practically married three times. That’s kind of mortifying.”

Ryuuji turned to him. “Earth has a saying that goes like this- Try a thing you haven’t done three times. Once, to get over the fear of doing it. Twice, to learn how to do it. And a third time, to figure out whether you like it or not.”  


“That was a long one,” Hiroto said, smiling. He leaned in to press a kiss to Ryuuji’s nose. “I think I like this one… so far.”  


* * *

“And then we lived happily ever after.” Hiroto finished, spreading his arms like he had just finished a grand tale. His only response was a long silence, followed by a groan. 

“Are you kidding me?” Masaki glared at his fathers, arms crossed and slumped into his seat. “That’s the dumbest marriage story of all time.”  


“Masaki!” Hiroto gasped, placing a hand over his heart. “You wound me!”  


“No, seriously,” Masaki pressed, “That’s stupid. You got married by a fat clown? _You’re_ the clowns! You weren’t even in love!”  
Ryuuji shrugged, twisting his ring around his finger idly. It had become a habit, as of late. “I think we were. Just in a different way.”

“Aw. You’re sweet.” Hiroto said, tugging on Ryuuji’s ponytail fondly. Masaki threw his hands up into the air.  


“Trust you two to do _absolutely nothing normal,_ ** _ever_**.”  


“And we lived happily ever after.” Ryuuji repeated his husband, and Hiroto smiled at him. 

“The end.” Masaki grumbled, standing to get a sandwich and leave his parents to their sappiness. No one else on the team had weird gay clown-married parents. 

And, really, he didn’t mind. They might have been weird, but they were his.

Things were okay. 


End file.
